


Toy

by mxacey



Series: Toyverse [1]
Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dom Oma Kokichi, Established Relationship, Humor, Impact Play, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Objectification Kink, Safe Sane and Consensual, Slice of Life, Sub Saihara Shuichi, because hey I'm taking facts revealed in canon and making them relevant here, because subhara needs some stress relief amirite, some game spoilers, they're just foils
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-08 09:45:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13455648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mxacey/pseuds/mxacey
Summary: As a member of DICE, Shuichi knew that fulfilling their clients' jobs required expert deception and subterfuge. But adequately performing a ruse requested by his superior and dominant was difficult when said man was as impulsive and ridiculous as Kokichi.As Shuichi's lover, Kokichi just wanted him to obtain some fucking confidence already and relax in its security.





	1. Side A: Foreplay

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo I started writing this after I finished Chapter 3...and liked too much of the concept/dialogue I had already written to just throw it all out after I completed the game. So oops now it's an AU. I've been tweaking this for months and my darling beta/editor Savvy is twisting my arm into posting the first part.
> 
> I just have too many feels for these two. It hurts how much I love them, and Kokichi the fuckin twerp is fun to write.
> 
> I use a mix of localization conventions and being true to the original text/culture, in regards to honorifics and names used. Tbh I love Steve Prince's voice-acting in the dub too much to not hear his voice when I'm thinking of Kokichi, buuut I've also studied Japanese and Japan so it does make me sad when localization ends up removing subtleties because they don't translate well.
> 
> I've given codenames to the various DICE members depicted in the late game images--I hope via my descriptions you'll be able to figure out who is who. Only one is really described in Side A, more will be in the next chapter.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this article of trash
> 
> Edit 12/23/2018: I decided to include the image I made that has all the DICE members with the codenames I came up with. Here it is for easier viewing: https://i.imgur.com/LTctSsX.png

Shuichi did his best to calm his nerves as he sat on Kokichi’s imposing throne. There was nothing unusual about him being present for a meeting with potential clients, or even his seating arrangement--with Kokichi gleefully sprawled across his lap, both behaving and speaking like a bratty and mouthy submissive given too much power and leniency due to his dominant’s position, when in fact their true roles were the exact opposite. Their regular clients already knew who “Soutou-sama” was, and many newer ones were able to at least quickly deduce the man in charge based on observation and contextual clues. But it was very seldom Shuichi would be asked to actively participate in this particular deception: fool a prospective client into believing that _he_ was Soutou-sama.

So Shuichi had been informed in the past, it was a performance of necessity to put those cocky prospectives who would try to manipulate Kokichi in their proper place. To throw them off balance so they would realize how truly powerless they were, make them surrender any semblance of control they foolishly believed they had. That they were at the mercy of DICE and his whims, not the other way around.

While Shuichi realized there was an element of truth to that, he was also positive that Kokichi merely revelled in fucking with prospectives.

Shuichi sat straighter and tried to channel his neutral, analytical expression typically reserved for when he was investigating. He knew he must’ve been staring off into space and looking far too stiff when he was startled by a firm poke to the cheek.

“Awww, are you _nervous?_ ” Kokichi cooed. “Practice makes perfect y’know! I know you do, you’ve learned _so much_ by practicing with me…” After a momentary battle of keeping his mind clear and failing, Shuichi’s cheeks flushed deeply. Kokichi’s poke morphed into a pinch. “Ah-ah-ah! You’re the Great and Powerful Soutou-sama right now, you can’t be so easily affected by a tease like me. You have to save those cute reactions for _later_ , when all this boring business is done.”

Shuichi grit his teeth. “You know it’s difficult for me to do this at all, _especially_ when you...provoke me.”

“It’s just a test!” He giggled. “I’m going to do much worse than that, y’know. If you’re afraid you’re going to break character, just pretend they’re naked! Imagining their old saggy skin, smelly unwashed dicks, and perpetual fart-breath should kill any boner I’m giving you right away.” Kokichi’s expression switched to faux-contemplative. “Though you _might_ not have to imagine the breath, it’ll probably carry across the room.”

“Thanks for that,” Shuichi grimaced, rubbing his temple with his right hand.

“Nee-heehee! You know me, I’m a helper. Just turn off that beautiful detective brain of yours and slip into the role.” His grin only widened. “You’re not _you_ , you’re a high ranking and trusted subordinate of an evil supreme leader who’s being duplicitous about his identity!”

Shuichi sighed and rolled his eyes. “But that _is_ me. More or less.”

Kokichi’s hand fell away from Shuichi’s face, and for a moment there was complete silence as he turned his face away from the detective. When he spoke again his tone was quiet, calm, factual, icy: “No, it’s not. You’re my toy.”

Even with that particular word making Shuichi more consciously aware of the warm aluminum choker caressing his neck, metal collar hidden beneath the high, cotton collar of his uniform, Shuichi just looked down at his superior with a blank expression. After a moment he just quirked his eyebrow as he stared at him. _Really?_

A few beats later Kokichi tilted his head to look back at Shuichi from the corner of his eye, donning an inquisitive mask, as if to say, _What? It’s true._

After about a half minute of a mutual half-hearted “staredown,” Kokichi abruptly grinned and embraced Shuichi. “See?! I knew you could do it!” Kokichi leaned up to give Shuichi a smooch on the cheek, obnoxiously punctuated with an incredibly audible _MWAH!_ Shuichi remained unperturbed by the antics, but affectionately tousled Kokichi’s hair.

The Supreme Leader laughed and bounced on Shuichi’s leg, emphatically clapping twice. “All-right! We are ready! Send the bastards in.”

Blaze, who had been standing by and acted as DICE’s main muscle, lowered his mask slightly while looking Kokichi directly in the eyes. Betraying the wide smile of his mask, the towering, afroed man blatantly rolled his eyes in response to his boss’ gestures.

“Just getting into character, you maaaaad?”

Shuichi briefly gave Blaze a sympathetic expression. In response he replaced his mask, and moved his hand up to his ear, clearly communicating over the radio system to whoever was keeping the main doors shut. He then moved to the left side of the throne, crossing his arms while standing tall. Ready to move in position as a shield, in the unlikely scenario requiring an escape to the nearest exit to the throne’s right.

Kokichi snaked his arm around Shuichi’s waist and nuzzled into his chest. Shuichi, on the other hand, just closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled evenly. When he heard the front doors click open, he slowly opened his eyes as well. Showtime.

The footsteps of the two men entering reverberated throughout the room. Shuichi recognized the elder looking man with a head full of white hair as Takahashi Souma, age 71. His wrinkled face sported a pleasant smile brimming with pompous confidence. Upon their entry, Shuichi could immediately tell why Kokichi chose this particular tactic. The name of Takahashi’s companion eluded him, as the identity and particulars of the bodyguard weren’t important to his prior investigation, but Shuichi could recall that the man was Takahashi longest serving bodyguard and could regularly be seen beside the man at public functions. While he certainly looked fit and capable as a bodyguard, Shuichi could easily spot the subtle sheen where his hair parted, the roots of his hair grey, exposing his brown dye job in an attempt to appear younger. Even though his sunglasses shielded any possible tell-tale crows’ feet from Shuichi’s discerning eye, he estimated the bodyguard was probably in his early 60s or late 50s. Shuichi noted Takahashi’s transparent hubris in bringing a lone time-tested subordinate as protection, clearly disregarding the myriad rumors Kokichi spread himself of Soutou-sama’s ruthless and violent retaliations in response to perceived insults. If Shuichi had to guess further, that was probably due to the other widespread (albeit accurate) rumor of ‘Soutou-sama’s youth.

The men stopped right before the beginning of the red carpet that lead to the throne. They both bowed, the bodyguard more deeply than his boss, and Kokichi giggled as he lounged in Shuichi’s lap. In spite of his superior’s squirming and almost theatrical displays of affection, Shuichi kept his eyes focused on the potential client.

“It is an honor to have the opportunity to finally meet you, Soutou-sama. Your organization’s reputation speaks volumes of your skill and leadership. I thank you for taking the time out of your very busy schedule to consider my proposal.” He smiled as he spoke his warm but empty respectful words, formality lacking a shred of humility; the belief that they were at least on equal footing seeping into his demeanor. Shuichi opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by Kokichi giggling first.

“Nee-heehee...you mean ‘solicitation,’ don’tcha?” The businessman’s eyes bulged slightly in shock at the quip, but after a beat Shuichi caressed Kokichi’s hand clenching his side, and smoothly interjected:

“Takahashi-san, if we could simply cut to the chase. Extraneous flattery is a waste of our aforementioned _limited_ time, and will do you no favors in our determination of whether your supplication is worth our trouble.” Shuichi continued to look down at the prospective, as if he were well beneath him (though he supposed perhaps he _was_ in this context, as Kokichi had reminded him time and time again that, despite being his underling, Shuichi was far superior to anyone else he would meet). He saw Takahashi’s unsettled confusion dissolve from his features at Shuichi’s words. He must’ve been pleased to hear more expected words coming from a ‘ruler.’

As he continued his steady gaze, Shuichi felt hot breath ghost along the side of his neck, then felt a gentle, sultry kiss placed on it. Shuichi swallowed hard, concentrating. Soon the breath floated upwards, and he felt the additional weight from Kokichi stretching to whisper into his ear. His tone was as worshipful and seductive as the kiss he just gave:

“Wow, that was _sooo_...cliche. Pretty sure I heard that exact phrasing in a movie once. Or maybe it was a manga? Anyway, valiant effort, my love.” Shuichi stole a quick glance at the flirt from the corner of his eye, and saw his iconic mischievous smirk.

“ _Exhibitionist_ ,” Shuichi muttered in retort, earning a giggle as reward that was so adorable _it wasn’t fucking fair_. Taking a cue from Kokichi’s comment, Shuichi audibly implored, “My love, please, we’re with a potential client.”

Even though he was just echoing the term of endearment, he couldn’t help the sensation of butterflies fluttering in his chest at actually uttering it so publically. The way Kokichi clung to him and smiled, Shuichi _knew_ there was no way the smaller man didn’t notice. “All right~” he sighed, nestling his head against Shuichi’s chest with a too-content expression. Shuichi exhaled quietly but deeply through his nostrils.

While he mentally spat _Voyeur_ at Kokichi, he continued to address the businessman: “Takahashi-san, persuade us why we manipulate this election to assist your son. There’s no question we could do so, but the compensation you proposed in your initial query was... lacking, to say the least, and of little practical use to us, _especially_ when compared to the effort required on our end.” Kokichi adjusted the way he reclined on Shuichi, so it was no surprise when he opened his mouth as well.

“Yeah, your idea of payment fuckin’ _sucked_. Political favors? Soutou-sama’s young but he didn’t pop out of mama’s vajayjay _yesterday._ And five million yen? _Really?_ You can’t pay for a Kardashian’s plastic surgery with that!” Kokichi scoffed, and before Shuichi had a chance to interject more palatable words of agreement, the true man-in-charge barrelled on: “How could Soutou-sama properly spoil his sugarbaby with _lunchmoney?_ Baby needs a mansion full of kinky toys!”

Takahashi, predictably, looked absolutely appalled, confused, and offended by Kokichi’s crass, intense words, and likely his sudden shift from “righteous anger” to “enthusiasm.” Shuichi was long past being surprised by his antics--he didn’t even need to check to verify that Kokichi had an impossibly huge grin on his face, he could hear it as soon as he started uttering his last declaration.

But in spite of his knowledge, he couldn’t stop the creeping flush to his face from Kokichi’s deliberate double-entendre. It didn’t matter that it was an obvious provocation, it was downright embarrassing. Shuichi found himself biting his lip in order to bite back the retorts that he didn’t need to be spoiled, to have a mansion full of sex toys, and to please _never_ refer to him as a ‘sugarbaby’ _ever_ again.

He just hoped that Takahashi was too horrified to notice and analyze Shuichi’s facial expression. But perhaps the same wouldn’t be true of his bodyguard…

Shuichi sighed, rubbing his temple like he did earlier, this time taking advantage of his hand momentarily obscuring his face to regain his composure. He knew what he had to do, consequences later be damned.

Moving his hand down from his own face to Kokichi’s, Shuichi gently caressed and cupped his lover’s chin. Surprised, Kokichi let his face be tilted upwards to look up at the presumed man-in-charge. From the corner of his eye, Shuichi could see the doe-eyed curiosity written in Kokichi’s violet eyes, in the slight gape of his mouth.

Time to wipe it off his face entirely.

Shuichi abruptly shoved his thumb past Kokichi’s lips, and pressed down on his tongue _hard_. Immediately Shuichi could register the initial panic in Kokichi’s eyes, the instant burn of his cheeks. He squirmed, trying to wiggle out of Shuichi’s grasp, but Shuichi maintained his grip. A couple of seconds later, Kokichi’s squirming calmed into quivering, and Shuichi could feel hot pants breezing over his thumb. Shuichi turned his head to fully look at the imp sprawled in his lap, and saw the fire in the eyes staring right into him. The mischievous challenge, amusement, and desire.

He _so_ was going to get it later.

He calmly removed his thumb (although his mind was awash with fears of having his thumb aggressively nipped), and while Kokichi evened his breathing and wiped the drool off on his sleeve, Shuichi dried his digit off using a corner of Kokichi’s scarf. Again he caught sight of an invigorating spark alight in Kokichi’s scorching violet irises, and again Shuichi tried to ignore the promises they gave of the various inevitable punishments he would endure and enjoy the next time he consented with a _“yes, sir._ ” Like a moth to the flame, the longer he gazed, the more his composure and his ability to maintain the act slipped away as ash.

Darting his eyes away first before he turned the rest of his head back towards the prospective, Shuichi cleared his throat to buy himself a couple extra seconds to think of how he would continue.

“Takahashi-san if I may more precisely explain our position...we are quite aware of the private nature of your youngest son. You have done well to hide it from the media, but you’ve underestimated our reach despite seeking us out for assistance.” Shuichi paused to take a breath, his nerves calming as he could lean on his earlier role in preparation of meeting this client--his investigation. “Takahashi Haruki-kun is indeed as gifted and passionate as the newspapers boast, but he’s also easily discouraged. A participant in a single chess tournament in high school, only to be knocked out early on. Despite reportedly improving significantly according to his classmates in the chess club, he never attempted another competition. In middle school, even, at the urging of his close friends, he ran for class representative, only to barely lose to the class favorite Akamatsu-san. In later years he never tried again, even when he would have unquestionably won the position. It goes on, painting a clear portrait of a man who crumples after meeting initial defeat. Therefore it’s clear to me, to us, that you are afraid that if he loses due to public unease about his lack of experience, even after running a solid and otherwise successful campaign, that his political career will become yet _another_ abandoned aspiration, and his future will be continue to be uncertain.”

“And then he’ll never move out of your house or stop spending his allowance on expanding his embarrassing waifu collection!” Kokichi cut in to snigger. “Seriously? Twenty-six and he still gets pity money from ole Pops?”

Shuichi could practically feel heat emanating from Takahashi’s narrowed gaze at Kokichi. But he also wasn’t surprised that Kokichi barged in at the first opportunity to mock Haruki’s hobby, considering he cackled for a straight week at the photographs of the shelves of meticulously constructed and painted anime babes. Kokichi had even started referring to Haruki as “Grape-chan” in ‘honor and memory’ of the penguin who fell in love with a cardboard cutout of a gijinka penguin. It got to the point where the Supreme Leader couldn’t even look at a bottle of grape Panta without busting into a fit of giggles, so Shuichi took initiative in secretly forbidding the other DICE members from purchasing the soda for the couple weeks following.

When Kokichi turned his head upwards, his smile aimed at Shuichi, he realized that in the midst of his musings his physical attention had inadvertently shifted as well. The warm bemusement he felt must’ve slipped into his expression as well. He flicked his eyes back towards Takahashi, and saw what had (only a few seconds prior!) been an angry glare blossomed into barely restrained fuming.

“Soutou-sama”--Shuichi could practically taste the remnants of poison filtered from his speech, and admittedly he was a bit impressed at how much he was successfully maintaining his composure, a testament to both his resolve and desperation--”I hear your objections, and am most certainly willing to negotiate for compensation that is more agreeable to you and continue our deliberations businessman to businessman, I cannot do so if you will not _silence_ your...your... _loquacious_ companion.”

Takahashi stood up straighter, calmer after his adult declaration in the face of childish antics. His bodyguard beside him relaxed, as if assured by his boss’s demeanor that they possessed the upperhand. Telltale signs of his impending anxiety--goosebumps, twitching fingers, increased heart rate--started to plague Shuichi one after another as his mind began to race, fretting over what action or phrase or _whatever_ he needed to do take back control of the meeting.

But then he didn’t.

“Well that’s just _rude!_ ” Kokichi’s voice, again, cleanly sliced through the thick air. Takahashi looked positively enraged. But Shuichi felt the reassuring rub of his superior’s thumb flit over his knuckles. Then, the squeeze of a hand. “But, I suppose it can’t be helped. You heard the man.” The smaller man sighed below him, and before Shuichi could properly shift his gaze to him, he flinched, eyes clamping shut from the abrupt, theatric shout in his ear. “SHUT YOUR YAP.”

Eyes open again, Shuichi immediately lowered his gaze to the plush rug surrounding their throne. His face flushed to the tips of his ears from both embarrassment and sheer _relief_ from no longer being expected to continue the ruse. He pursed his lips, swallowing, as he felt the warm press of Kokichi’s rear against his thigh as he sat back down. Takahashi sputtered. “W-what? Sou..tou-sama?”

“I’m sorry my ‘loquacious companion’ offended you so much, Takahashi-chan. I mean, I figured you’d be well acquainted yourself with the practice of having a cute secretary or whatever handle the boring introductory stuff. Admittedly I was a _little bit_ fixated on him, but what can I say? I am a man, after all, and if you were as well acquainted with his cute naked ass as I am, you’d understand. Oh! Not to get your hopes up or anything, since I don’t like sharing.”

His goosebumps returned, Shuichi doing his best to suppress his shiver at hearing those too-revealing confessions. Not in a futile attempt to have it escape the notice of his superior (he’d learned too well that by then Kokichi could read him like a first language), but in a struggle to preserve his dwindling composure. Awkward silence hung in the room, finally broken by Kokichi’s hum.

“Wait, was him shutting up not enough to continue ‘businessman to businessman?’ Dammit you must’ve _really_ pissed him off! _Apologize!_ ”

Shuichi grunted as he was abruptly shoved off the throne, his fall cushioned by the intentionally placed rug, and from an optimal landing. He could vividly recall his sheer befuddlement years earlier when a hired ‘consultant’ of Kokichi turned out to be a stage combat instructor. What he thought to be a prank turned out to be a crash course on how to _better_ trick others, such as in this moment. Shuichi winced as if in pain, and began to shift into _seiza_ , parting his lips to voice some form of contrition, only to be silenced by the sound of Kokichi clearing his throat and the firm press of his foot between his shoulders.

“Um, excuse you! He didn’t like you talking. Make your _actions_ speak, duh!”

With that direction and no other options available, Shuichi bent forward until his forehead was pressed against the rug. Even though his expression was not visible, he knew his flushed ears were giving him away. He took a deep breath and exhaled as quietly as he could, to try to will away his mortification. His anxiety was rising a bit again, knowing that the eyes of two practical strangers were glued to this display of submission. But before he could really analyze whether or not this all had irrevocably and unquestionably veered into Not Okay territory, his thoughts were interrupted by Kokichi’s voice, its softer tone containing a soothing subtext of a promise of release meant for Shuichi, and Shuichi only.

“Are we finally on the same page now, Takahashi-chan? If so I’d be more than happy to begin negotiations over proper payment and solidify a contract. I mean, unless you _don’t_ want a guarantee of success for your baby boy. That’s why you came to me in the first place, right?”

“Yes…” Despite not being able to see, or wanting to really, Shuichi could _hear_ the humility laden in the deflated agreement from Takahashi. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief, but still didn’t lift his face. He may have felt a bit calmer, but he was well aware that the possibility of locking eyes with the client would immediately dissolve what calm he recently acquired.

“Great! Then let’s. Get down. To business! To defeat--ah, whatever, I’m already bored of that reference.” Two claps verberated. “Two chairs for Takahashi-chan and his goon please, call Ace to type up the contract, tea for all of us and--oh, darling?”

At that Shuichi finally raised himself, and quickly turned to meet his superior’s gaze. With eyes shining and lips curved into satisfied smirk, Kokichi lazily outstretched his right arm, palm downwards, in Shuichi’s direction. He flicked his four fingers, in unison, towards himself, beckoning the detective to come closer. Rising and stepping over to his Leader, Shuichi dropped back to his knees, more to the side of the throne on Kokichi’s right, so the leader wouldn’t have to stretch as far to reach his ear. His eyes, searching and inquisitive, flitted to Kokichi’s face.

“Hey. I’m going to dismiss you and finish up here, but,”--as he whispered, Kokichi’s vibrant, violet eyes glimmered, sparkling and crackling like kindling in a campfire, and Shuichi found his focus enraptured as always--“after, _do you want to play?_ ”

His breath hitched, Shuichi briefly darted his eyes away, and as the heat began to creep back up his neck he realized that his blush from earlier _had_ dissipated, only to be resurrected by that request. Their simple phrase that contained promises of intense intimacy, pain and pleasure, thankful moments of blessed respite from his overactive, anxious mind. Shuichi wetted his lips, and paused only to try not to sound too eager in his hushed reply: “Yes, sir.”

Kokichi’s smile widened, and Shuichi felt bare underneath his sharp, analytical gaze. “Perfect. Let’s go with…” His eyes trailed off toward the ceiling. “Prompt 37, this time.” Shuichi nodded as Kokichi returned his gaze, although he wondered whether Kokichi actually _remembered_ the instructions of the prompt, or if he was just rattling off a random number. “It’ll probably take about an hour to finalize the contract, but afterwards I’m going to shower to clear Takahashi-chan’s stench out of my nose. You need to be ready for me by no later than 7:45 on the dot. Got it?”

“Understood, sir.”

“Good.” The smaller male looked away, as if bored. The same hand that beckoned Shuichi over was now shooing him away dismissively, and with a sigh he ordered in normal volume, “You’re excused. Buh-bye now!”

After a brief bow, Shuichi rose and strode to the door, pointedly avoiding looking at anybody else before he left.

But even after he left, too. Shuichi passed through the common room, which was just as stark white as most of the rest of the hideout. The main exception there being its red couch cushions, and its current inhabitants, some of whom were wearing casual clothing as opposed to the usual white uniform. He heard laughter from those playing games, and someone (probably Snake Eyes) furiously tapping against their laptop keyboard, probably in the midst of an MMO raid or DDoS attack. Because his remaining composure was dedicated to keeping a straight face, Shuichi walked with purpose, not making eye contact with a soul. He couldn’t risk getting stopped for idle chitchat. Especially while having no idea how much, if any, of the meeting was commented on by Blaze to the other members of DICE as it progressed.

His mind was still reeling over said meeting: was he convincing enough? Was his presence there actually necessary? Was he being messed with too? Would he ever have to face Takahashi again? _Could_ he even face him again? Was Kokichi demanding some embarrassing stipulation as an apology ‘present’ for him? How much trouble was he in for for consenting to a scene right after putting his thumb in his Sir’s mouth in front of a client? Was that actually what he was hoping for, even if subconsciously?

So occupied by his worries, Shuichi startled when he recognized that he was just about to walk right past the iron, garishly painted spiral staircase that led up to his and Kokichi’s quarters. This unusual fixture stuck out like a sore thumb; tagged and retagged over the years with spray paint of various contrasting and contradictory colors, it had been in possession of the organization long before Shuichi had joined, and moved with them with each relocation. While its origin would likely remain a mystery to Shuichi (as every time he asked Kokichi or a senior DICE member he received a different outlandish tale), that didn’t really matter to him.

With every metallic creak under his weight, Shuichi could also hear echoes of long past hurried first kisses and confessions. Knew Kokichi must have felt the same, since he had the staircase installed to lead up into his room once Shuichi moved in. A foundation of innocence and affection, now essentially leading up to a den of debauchery and relief.

At the moment, alone as he was as he opened their door, Shuichi couldn’t bring himself to give a single shamed fuck about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Side A was Shuichi POV, Side B is going to continue after Side A but with Kokichi POV. I've already written part of it, hopefully the pervy shit will come easily once the twerp actually starts telling me what kind of kinks he wants to do because oh my god ouma come ON talk to me dear you little shit
> 
> if you feel so inclined, please leave kudos and maybe a comment so my Kokichi muse will be more cooperative (haHAA that's hilarious)
> 
> now posting before I chicken out and Savvy murders me (ilu)


	2. Side B: Ecstasy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh man first off I just want to say thank you to everyone for the glowing comments, kudos, and bookmarks. I've been kinda floored and encouraged by the intense positivity and kind compliments T.T
> 
> it's been a few weeks but I've pretty much been working on this the whole time, whether literally or in the back of my mind. it never left and ouma is a terror. because just when I THOUGHT I knew where the scene was headed the little ass would metaphorically laugh in my face, so I had to adjust.
> 
> also because my husband pointed this out I need to say:  
> Ace is not a self-insert. That'll be clearer after the beginning scene, which I had already mostly written when I had posted Side A. I was mortified when he asked, as the connection literally never crossed my mind. All of the code names I picked for the members of DICE were either related to playing cards or craps terms. The only exceptions are Kokichi's, which is based on his Ultimate/SHSL title, and the one given to Shuichi for reasons I wanna elaborate on in a different story.
> 
> anyway I hope the length of this chapter makes up for the wait. it's 9501 words according to my google doc and by my calculations, roughly 73% of it is filth. I hope you enjoy these slutty slutty words.
> 
> Edit 12/23/2018: I decided to include the image I made that has all the DICE members with the codenames I came up with. Here it is for easier viewing: https://i.imgur.com/LTctSsX.png

By the time the contracts were finally signed, Kokichi could hardly wait to push Takahashi and his lackey out the door. Regrettably, not as literally as he would have liked. His cheeks hurt from the fake grinning, and from the appearance of rapidly switching moods (more often than he usually did), all working overtime to keep the tycoon off balance. Takahashi practically kissing his ass after Shuichi left did nothing to quell his building rage. More than once, he was tempted to tell Takahashi to fuck off and slip a note in his lackey’s pocket mocking Grape-chan for his shit taste in waifus.

But he didn’t, for Shuichi, and that pissed Kokichi off.

Because he had pushed his beloved too far.

In his personal experience and observations, trial by fire tended to, largely, foster the most improvement in a skill. Whether the stakes were real or fake, there was nothing like having a fire lit under his ass to force him to make a decision and stick to it. He’d only been thinking of helping Shuichi be more confident in his position as second-in-command, rather than a glorified independent contractor and boytoy.

One would think that after four years of being together, it wouldn’t be such a shock _every time_ Kokichi was reminded that Shuichi wasn’t him nor operated like him. And that there was absolutely nothing wrong with that.

Man, he was a shitty boyfriend. Dom? Boss? De facto husband? Whatever he was.

He told himself that he was _trying_ to do better for him as he continued negotiations far too long for his liking, even if he did indulge in his ornery pissiness by insisting on six pallets of grape Panta as part of their payment. If he had called off the job entirely, it’d just be adding insult to Shuichi’s mortification. Worst of all, he’d _apologize_ for not performing the ruse well enough.

He tried not to let that thought sour his face as he stood up and shook Takahashi’s mook’s hand first, then the businessman’s.

“Don’t forget to write!” he sang as waved the two off, casually walking out of the room.

Immediately, Kokichi made a beeline for Paws in the common room to demand use of his hand-sanitizer. (It still remained a mystery to him why the younger man was such a clean freak yet did nothing reasonable for his personal appearance--his hair looked like a sprouting onion for cripes’ sake.) Comically gagging and crying as he vigorously rubbed his hands, his overreaction an exaggerated truth. Kokichi smiled as his comrades’ chuckles reached his ears. Nothing could quiet his inner self-loathing quite like his family. But could also trigger it, whenever he felt like he was letting them down. Frowning, Kokichi plopped down on the couch with a sigh.

“How bad did he look?” he couldn’t help but chew his lip as his eyes twitched to look at every other DICE member present, sans masks, lounging about. The only one who didn’t look up was Snake Eyes, who was still _tap-tap-tapping_ away at his keyboard.

“I doubt it was as bad as that old man’s leering.” Kokichi turned to see Ace glide through the door, folder tucked under one arm as she removed her big-lipped clown mask and tossed it on a couch cushion. She ran her fingers through her strawberry blonde hair, and leaned on the seat near Kokichi. Hovering over him, ever like the doting, reassuring mother he never had. Irritating.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence _Mom_ , but I thought leering was _why_ you’ve decided to display your twin peaks so prominently.” She rolled her eyes. _Infuriating_.

“Knock it off, Boss. I’ve known you for too long to fall for that obvious bait.”

Kokichi huffed as his friends snickered. The sound of clicking laptop keys ceased, and Snake Eyes finally looked up from his screen. Though Kokichi could barely see the man’s left eye curtained behind his blond emo-bangs, he could tell his narrow gaze was steadily aimed at him.

“Are you sure that Pageboy is the anxious one of you two?”

Kokichi blinked. Then tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. “You guys are _meeeean!_ I came out to have a good time and I’m honestly feeling so attacked right now.”

His histrionic hiccuping was cut short by the contemplative hum of Spades. Like usual she sat on the floor next to the coffee table, her long hair spilling over her shoulders onto the floor while she poured over the cards she had laid out on the table. Shuichi’s code name of ‘Pageboy’ was essentially the fault of Spades, her cards, and the ridiculously on point love reading he received years ago that Kokichi had initially requested for laughs.

“Your lone pentacle is in reach,” she intoned ominously, sounding much too like a stereotypical creepy fortune-teller from a fantasy book. Kokichi scoffed.

“In _Japanese_ , Spades, I don’t have the meaning of every one of your cards committed to memory.”

Spades looked up with a huffy pout that rivaled the intensity of Kokichi’s act--though hers was actually genuine. Everyone except her started snickering, Kokichi most obviously.

“Geez, let me _try_ to be poetic sometimes! Ace of Pentacles. Security, prosperity, abundance, the works. Things are fine. _Trust your partner_ , Moon-Moon.”

Everyone else’s snickering evolved into cackling, and Kokichi and Spades swapped their smug and pouty expressions. After a moment Snake Eyes tapped Spades’ shoulder and tilted his head back. She nodded in understanding and went back to her cards. The others took the hint as well--Paws pulled out his Game Girl Advance; Ace moved to hover behind Snake Eyes, who had directed his attention back to his laptop screen. He spoke as he began typing again.

“Any further reassurances would be redundant, and we’d just be further playing into your stalling tactic.”

Kokichi’s face went blank as he registered the accurate callout, his worries slipping away like dry sand through a sieve. This was the reason DICE was his family: they could both take his shit and effortlessly dish it back out. Mockery _grounded_ Kokichi. It was just one of those mutually understood, unsaid truths. With eyes glistening, Kokichi curled his lips into a smirk, resting his index finger over them. He hummed a bit.

“You know, you are lucky I love you all, ‘cause you guys are real assholes.” His threat was quiet, sinister, and a lie.

“Takes one to know one, Boss. See you and Pageboy at tea time.”

After maturely sticking his tongue out at Snake Eyes, Kokichi skipped away, beginning to whistle as he approached their spiral staircase. An audio cue, _ready or not baby here I come._

Bouncing on each step, Kokichi traced the ghosts of graffiti on the railing, long since spray painted over. _Saihara-chan’s stupid face is too adorable; I’m going to die Saihara-chan bought me hot tea from the vending machine because I bitched I was cold; stole Saihara-chan’s♡ hat today;_ and countless scrawls of just _Saihara-chan, Saihara-chan, Saihara-chan_. (He truly was a lovesick idiot in high school--not that he’d admit it outwardly.)

He stopped before the door, leaning his ear close to it, but heard nothing beyond it. Pulling his lockpicks from his pocket, Kokichi, still whistling, playfully jangled them before he got to work on his door. Due to muscle memory and daily routine, seconds later it _clicked,_ and Kokichi pressed the door open. In a fluid motion he pulled his tools from the lock, pushed the door closed with his heel, and locked it again behind him.

Kokichi pretended that he _didn’t_ see Shuichi facing towards him from the other side of their mattress, his mass mostly hidden by it due to the fact that he was kneeling, despite that his love’s anticipatory, downturned gaze was the most notable sight upon entering the room. As he pulled off his shoes, he shifted from whistling to humming so he wouldn’t drown out any potential, telltale hitches of breath or rustling of tiny chains from the handcuffs he _should_ be wearing. While Kokichi didn’t really recall what number he rattled off earlier, that didn’t matter because he sure as hell _knew_ it was a prime number under one hundred. He was a bit disappointed to hear silence coming from Shuichi’s location, but knew that would change soon enough.

He pranced into their bathroom, dumped the jumpsuit, underwear, and socks he was wearing into the clothes hamper, and glanced to see what clothes were neatly laid out for him. Folded by the sink appeared to be his pair of white leather pants, and a pair of black leather gloves. _Oooooh spankings!_ Depending on the intensity of impact Shuichi wanted, Kokichi mused, maybe he’d get to use the crop on him, too. Wouldn’t _that_ be fun!

Moving into the shower room, he grabbed the stool and the shower nozzle, and sat down. Part of him, the impatient side, just wanted to wash up as quickly as possible, get dressed and get out there, but he knew that if he could will himself into taking his sweet ass time, Shuichi’s anticipation would blossom exponentially. Kokichi could easily envision himself waltzing into the room, finally locking eyes with the man who was unquestionably belonged to him, had absurdly _given_ himself to Kokichi. How his shirtless, commanding presence would quickly earn him a full-body, _quaking_ shiver--

Kokichi cursed. His fantasizing was already making him hard, and did nothing to curb his eager impatience. Exhaling deeply, he cleared his mind, narrowing his focus to just the water trickling off his skin, the feel of the soapy sponge in his hand, and eradicating the imagined cooties that roamed over his body from the aftermath of that irritating meeting.

As he dried off, he began to follow his own advice to Shuichi from earlier, slowly slipping into his role and its headspace:

 _Ouma Kokichi, a dominant who needed to punish his misbehaving plaything._ He slipped on the pants, zipping and buttoning them up with care.

 _Cool, unaffected, and composed, he brutalized his toy until he melted into nothing more than the moaning pile of residue he truly was._ He tugged on the left glove, then the right.

 _Malicious until his doll remembered what he was and completely surrendered, then positively reinforced the behavior with overflowing saccharine praise and carnal rewards._ A sinister grin that reached his eyes took control of his features, and a merciless giggle barrelled past his lips. He felt light, high from embodying the caricature of an aspect of himself.

He turned the doorknob, the door sighing open, his normally airy footsteps feeling heavy with power. Again Kokichi began to hum, continuing to avoid looking at his belonging, instead observing the equipment laid out for him. It’d give clues as to the contents of the chosen prompt written in their little red book of scenarios, which was stored in their bedside drawer on top of the red pocket folder containing their literal multi-page, sheet-protected agreement and contract, and next to the lube.

Neatly arranged on the bed was the riding crop Kokichi hoped to use, a plum blindfold, the key to the handcuffs Shuichi was already wearing, and their chain-linked nipple clamps. _Interesting_ , as those were a newer purchase and certainly not featured in any of the earlier written prompts.

“The clamps are your request?” he coolly asked, not even looking as he added the handcuffs key to the chain of his necklace that held the lockpick-shaped key to Shuichi’s collar.

“Y-yes, sir.”

Kokichi could finally hear the soft clink of the handcuffs as Shuichi shifted in place. Music that brought his smirk back to his lips.

“Pretty ballsy to think that you’ve been good enough to deserve to make requests, don’tcha think?” A sharp inhale.

“I--”

“Did I _ask_ for an excuse, doll?” Kokichi cut him off, finally directing his narrowed gaze toward the man kneeling beside their bed, just in time to see him blanch and squirm in spite of himself.

“No sir, you d-didn’t.” Shuichi’s gaze was still focused on the ground, and Kokichi smiled that he at _least_ was being good in not looking before he was given permission.

“But I _suppose_ I can acquiesce to that request.” He noted how Shuichi’s adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed, and the slight relaxation of his shoulders, even while he was maintaining perfect posture. The sheen of the metal ring around his neck heightened the obscenity of his lithe, naked form. Quickly Kokichi felt his ‘indifferent’ gaze turn predatory.

“Thank you, sir.” His words were so quiet, his small smile so soft with relief, Kokichi forced his facade of apathy before turning his face away, biting his lip briefly to ground himself.

“What difficulty setting are you hoping for in our play today?” the dom inquired casually, as if about the weather forecast of the day after, while he looked to the ceiling above the base of their bed to verify that Shuichi had attached the lead to the hook of their suspension system that would support his weight while he was being cropped.

“Mean, sir.” Kokichi fiddled with the clamps and tested them on his finger, verifying their edges were dull. He heard Shuichi shift uneasily again. “If it pleases you, sir.”

Turning back to look at his doll,  Kokichi loudly hummed for about a second, then paused as if in thought. “Sure, baby, okay.” Another short beat. “Look at me.”

Instantly golden eyes flitted upward to meet his own.  A trace, rosy blush dusted his sub’s cheeks. Kokichi smiled much too sweetly and watched as goosebumps formed along Shuichi’s collarbone area. His voice was tender as he continued with the next necessarily ritual. “What’s your color if you need our play to stop?”

“Shiro.” _White_ , Shuichi’s reply was automatic.

“If you need a pause?”

“Haiiro.” _Grey_.

“And if we’re in the clear to continue?”

“Kuro.” _Black_.

Chuckling, Kokichi’s smile grew, practically reaching ear to ear. “ _Goood_ , at least your memory’s good enough to recall the most _basic_ of my instructions.” Shuichi’s mouth parted briefly before clamping shut, obviously just _barely_ stopping himself from voicing a correction. Of course Kokichi knew the safe words were agreed upon during the conversation they had while they drafted their contract together. But the first step to launching Shuichi into subspace required he let go of the intricacies of what was the truth and what was a lie. All that mattered were their roles, and the rules of their game. Kokichi could see the gears turning in Shuichi’s head.

“Thank you, sir,” he replied, choosing to treat the obvious neg as a compliment. Kokichi’s smile didn’t fade.

“Mmm so _appreciative!_ Hey, what’s your color?”

“Kuro, sir.”

Kokichi giggled _._

“Excellent, eyes down,” he ordered, and relished his instant obedience. Deciding he _needed_ to get a better view to burn into his memory, Kokichi moved from the foot of the bed to Shuichi’s side.

And what a _view_ he was. The top of his feet were flat against the floor, his thighs perfectly aligned and flush with his calves, ass seated on his heels. His arms handcuffed behind his back because _apparently_ using them properly like a cop would was still his default, but at least that error prevented him from using his cuffed hands to hide his cock, which was _gloriously_ exposed, already red and hard. In that moment Kokichi felt he could die and descend straight into hell with no regrets, because he’d already seen the best art the world had to offer. Even Angie-chan’s magnum opus could never surpass the beauty right in front of him. He wetted his lips and whistled.

“Well don’t you look _yummy_ , dollface!”

Shuichi’s entire body flushed at his words, and visibly shivered. Kokichi closed the remaining distance, sidling up behind him and leaning over him. He gripped Shuichi’s left thigh, taking care to avoid brushing against his member, and purred against his neck and ear.

“Sitting so pretty, waiting so patiently for your owner, your cock positively _dripping_ and _throbbing_ before you’re even touched. Are you _that_ pent up?”

Shuichi’s blush deepened, and habitually he clenched his eyes and shied his face away. As soon as Kokichi dug his fingers into his thigh, Shuichi clearly recognized his mistake, his head snapping back forward. But it was too late.

Swiftly moving his hand off of his sub’s thigh, Kokichi gently threaded his fingers through Shuichi’s bluish, deep grey hair before closing his hand into a tight fist, tugging upward. Eyes closing again briefly, Shuichi let a hiss of pain escape through his teeth.

“What have I said?” Kokichi’s tone was low in sinister warning.

“S-sorry, sir!” The detective’s eyes were open again, indecisive in which part of the ground to stare at. Kokichi pulled a little harder.

“Did I _ask_ for an apology?” he spat. He saw Shuichi’s eyes widen, though he kept his gaze lowered. He quivered slightly.

“No s-sir.”

Kokichi waited a moment to let Shuichi’s initial panic recede, then continued just as harshly. “Then what. Have I said. About _that?”_ Another pause. “ _Look at me_ ,” he demanded.

Slowly Shuichi turned his head towards his Sir, breathing deeply before he shifted the focus of his eyes as well. “Not to...hide my face from you, sir…” Kokichi’s stern, angry gaze dissolved into a warm smile. Kokichi released his hair, his hand moving to gently touch under Shuichi’s chin with the tips of his gloved fingers. Leaning in close, face-to-face, Kokichi could feel Shuichi’s slight quiver, hear the soft _ting_ of the handcuffs’ chains, as he answered dotingly.

“That’s right. Your cute expressions belong to _me_ ,” he cooed, placing an enamored kiss on his cheek. He felt him shudder, and was satisfied to hear a barely restrained, pleased whimper. “You have no right to hide them from me. That’s theft, y’know.” He kissed the other cheek in the same manner, before pulling back. Smug smile on his face, the leader concluded: “Are you a thief, doll?”

Kokichi was surprised by Shuichi’s silence in the face of a question. Intrigued when he tentatively began to answer.

“Only...if you want me to be, sir.”

Kokichi gaped for a moment, and then staked and buried his intense elation at the unexpected, clever response. He knew by Shuichi’s creeping smile that _he_ knew he got him, even if for a moment. _The little shit._ Eyes twinkling as he pulled back, Kokichi smirked mischievously before he tightly hugged Shuichi from behind. He rubbed his face between his shoulder blades, dropping his hands briefly before pressing his torso harder against Shuichi, pushing his toy’s forehead against the side of the mattress while his hand roamed over his bare chest.

“Mmm, what a clever doll I have! I’m _sooo_ lucky,” he beamed, noting Shuichi’s body stilled, more goosebumps honestly expressing his tripadation from his words. With one side of his face still making direct contact with his back, Kokichi grinned maliciously. “Now...what do I usually do with my witty toys…?”

Kokichi listened for a few heartbeats, the pounding both audible and tactile.

“Oh! _Right_. I punish them.”

He afforded Shuichi no chance to react before he applied the first clamp. Immediately Shuichi yelped and instinctively squirmed, a poor attempt to escape from his dom’s expert clingy hold. Shuichi’s second whine after his other nipple was clamped was much softer by comparison, but it quickly escalated in pitch when Kokichi tugged downwards on the chain. Releasing the pressure, Kokichi noted Shuichi’s breathing seemed a little more labored than he anticipated. His brow furrowed.

“Color?”

It was just a moment before Shuichi responded. “Ha-haiiro. Just, give me a minute.”

Humming an _mmmmkay_ , Kokichi kept his hands on Shuichi’s stomach area but lazily and soothingly rubbed the skin there with his thumbs. He could feel him relax significantly, and his breathing return closer to normal, but he still waited. As Kokichi held him, he could feel Shuichi’s arms flex a bit right before he spoke.

“Kuro, sir.”

“Good toy.” He reached up to pull on the chain briefly, causing Shuichi to gasp. Kokichi stood, grabbing the cloth blindfold from the bed. He folded the plum fabric in half, twice, before he wrapped it around Shuichi’s head, knotting it snugly and securely so it wouldn’t slip from his eyes. “Can you still hear anything, doll?”

“No, s--wait _what?”_   Shuichi interrupted his own affirmation out of befuddlement. Kokichi snickered: _Embrace the nonsense, darling._ There was a satisfying _smack_ when leather glove met Shuichi’s behind, followed by a groan.

“Alrighty then, up-up!” Kokichi wrapped his fingers around Shuichi’s forearms and tugged upwards, just momentarily. Obviously Shuichi didn’t need the illustration, but what he _did_ need was to be stripped down mentally as much as he was physically. _Stop analyzing, quit questioning. You don’t need to think when I’m in charge, only feel--I got you._

When Shuichi fully stood, his collar was at Kokichi’s immediate eye-level. Part of Kokichi _really_ wanted to put a bell or a dog tag through the currently empty D-ring, just so he hear it jingle throughout the day, but Shuichi had non-negotiably squashed that idea. He took advantage of the secure blindfold to pout for a couple seconds without being caught, then unlocked one of the handcuffs.

“Um--”

Kokichi interjected smoothly, “ _Some_ body put the handcuffs on backwards! _Silly_ Shuichi. You can’t raise your arms over your head if they’re cuffed behind your back! Even BL mangaka with poor understanding of male anatomy know _that_.”

“Ah”--Kokichi guided both wrists to the front of his body before recuffing the wrist he had released--“I’m sorry, sir.”

“Eh, I’ll let it slide this time. At least now I have some decent spank material to take to my grave--I wasn’t lying when I said you looked yummy.” Kokichi experimentally pulled the chain of the cuffs, watching them dig a bit into Shuichi’s wrists. “Too tight?”

“No, sir. I think it’s fine...it feels like the right cuff is about as tight as I had it before.”

“Well that’s not at all surprising, considering I didn’t unlock the right.” _Bait._

He led Shuichi to the foot of the bed, guiding him to raise his arms. Even with the blindfold partially covering his toy’s face, Kokichi could tell his features were scrunched with vexation. For once he could stand on the foot of the bed when tethering Shuichi to the ceiling _without_ the taller man giving him an innocent, amused smile. As much as Kokichi loved him, it pissed him off to no end to see a disgustingly _sweet_ expression that essentially communicated “haha you’re short and it’s cute and I love you.” Knowing that Shuichi was too busy searching for an answer with his unseeing eyes to think of what Kokichi looked like standing on the bed was a _welcome_ change. He’d have to do this again.

“What? Um, no, you definitely loosened the cuff over my right wrist. Ah! You must’ve been referring to the wrist on _your_ right...uh, s-sir.” _Hook_.

It was absolutely marvelous and blessedly _absurd_ that this brilliant detective Kokichi adored could manage to get to wrapped up in the semantics of facts that he’d forget he was in the middle of a _scene_ , despite being collared, blindfolded, and _naked_ with his arms hanging over his head. It took every ounce of Kokichi’s willpower to _not_ burst out laughing and ruin the tension.

He still had a fish to catch, after all.

Grabbing the crop from the bed, Kokichi stealthily crawled back down and sauntered over to Shuichi, using the end of the tool to barely graze and tease the skin of Shuichi’s left inner thigh. His whole _body_ quivered as he maintained balance on the balls of his feet.

“Are you, by chance,” Kokichi started, pausing so he wouldn’t miss Shuichi sucking in his breath, “questioning me? _Doll?_ ”

Within seconds he was verbally stumbling over himself: “Uh, n-no sir, I-I just _meant_ \--”

“ _Quiet_ ,” he snapped, striking his ass with his gloved hand for emphasis. “Do _not_ lie to me.” _Smack_ , the other cheek. “You _know”_ \--another two strikes, alternating the cheeks--“that I _hate_ liars the most.” He finished his declaration with tightly squeezing the right cheek of his plump ass. Kokichi looked up to see Shuichi biting his lip in an attempt to stay quiet, only a whimper escaping from his flushed throat, blush trailing from his face down to his groin. His erection, which had flagged around when he moved to be restrained to the ceiling, was steadily returning.

A pleased smirk came to Kokichi’s lips, but he didn’t let it bleed into his tone. “You’ve been awfully unruly tonight and we’ve barely even started. So _many_ mistakes.” Kokichi circled, prowled as he spoke. “ _Asserting_ a request.” He yanked the chain connecting the clamps; a moan escaped Shuichi. “ _Sassing_ me under the guise of submission.” He skimmed Shuichi’s chest and side with the tips of his fingers--Shuichi flinched--then pulled them away. “ _Correcting_ my words and observations.” He snuck in close, wrapping his arms around Shuichi in an embrace, making the tip of the crop gently, repeatedly brush against his chin. “It’s almost like...you think you have free-will.” A hitch of breath. “Tell me, love: do dolls have free-will?”

Instantly he felt his arms quiver due to Shuichi’s full body shudder. He tightened his hold, possessively, so there was no mistaking how _owned_ he was. Shuichi trembled again, letting out a shaky breath.

“No, sir...They--no-- _we_ don’t.” _Catch._

Kokichi grinned.

“Nee-heehee...Doesn’t it feel _gooood_ to quit lying to yourself? But, y’know, just because you’re being honest now doesn’t make up for your lies earlier, riiiiight?” He kneaded Shuichi’s chest with his free hand, feeling the increase in weight as he leaned into his touch.

“True, sir.”

“Mmm, I’m going to have to punish you, my beloved. I know you can’t really help it--you dolls are, after all, _so_ simple-minded! Of course you’d forget. But this is the only way. Cuz even if your mind forgets, your body sure doesn’t.” His words oozed out like streams of ink from a cracked bottle, tainting and transfiguring everything they touched. He leisurely pulled the clamps’ chain taut, nuzzling his face against Shuichi’s arching back before dragging his teeth into a tender, sultry nip. His heart fluttered as he coaxed a short, breathy moan out of his toy.

“Please...help me remember, sir,” Shuichi murmured, his breath hitching when his love kissed where he had nipped.

“Of course, my precious porcelain doll, that’s what good owners do,” he purred. He stepped back, noting how Shuichi instinctively swayed his body to follow. Kokichi tsked, “Don’t be impatient love, you’ll be feeling more contact _real_ soon.” A low groan of _thank you, sir_ came from Shuichi due to his dark promise, bringing a grin to Kokichi’s face as he glided back towards the bedside end table to pocket a bottle of lube. He’d hate to potentially ruin the flow of the moment because he forgot something as simple as having lubricant handy. As he returned Kokichi ghosted over Shuichi’s thighs with the end of his tool, adding, “So, how many lashes should I give you, doll?”

“However many please you, sir.” After receiving that answer, Kokichi intently studied his suspended doll for a few moments. His flush body, slightly trembling in anticipation. His hands closing and shifting, futilely searching for purchase, his shackles chiming from his movement. Once he determined his response, Kokichi fixed his gaze on Shuichi’s face.

“Hmm...let’s go with sixteen.” He was amused to see Shuichi frown, then his face scrunching slightly in confusion. “Oh? Is something the matter, my beloved toy?”

“N-no sir...sixteen is...perfect.” An uncertain but calculated response was to be expected, but it was still major progress. They both knew that Kokichi had something up his sleeve, choosing such a relatively low and unusually particular number. But from the ever-so-slight way Shuichi’s face and shoulders relaxed, the dom knew that his love was letting the mystery go. That _acceptance_ made Kokichi’s heart soar.

“Damn right it is! Count ‘em, Shuichi!” With no more than a second after that verbal warning, Kokichi let the first blow firmly _thwack_ against Shuichi’s ample behind. That first cry pulled from Shuichi was more out of surprise than pain. Soon enough that’d change, and then change _again_ , pleasure arising from the pain like a phoenix from its ashes.

“One, sir,” he breathed through the sting that must’ve been developing, his exhale turning into a yelp when the crop made contact with his left thigh. “ _Ow!_ Two, sir...”

After every count, the crop struck a little harder, although Kokichi mainly narrowed his targets to the more padded areas of Shuichi’s body. The sound of the impacts was better, they were relatively less painful than other areas, the perfection introduction as he ramped up the difficulty. Left cheek, right cheek twice in a row, inner and outer thighs, a calf for one that would sting a little more. Shuichi’s form became more flushed, shaking, but even with the increasingly fluid additions of cusses like “fuck” and “shit” to his counts, Shuichi was still too coherent. That was something Kokichi was determined to fix, starting with a harsh strike to the small of his back. _Finally_ Shuichi screamed, rocking forward, his toes shifting to maintain his balance. Kokichi licked his lips as his exclamation devolved into a moan.

“F-fourteen, sir.”

“Huh? What are you talking about doll? That’s only the _fourth_ time I’ve hit you! Are you just adding ten to your count to try to reduce your punishment?” Kokichi didn’t remotely try to hide the mischievous glee from his delivery of the lie. Its believability wasn’t what mattered. Just Shuichi’s heavy, heady breathing becoming breathier.

“Nnn-no, sir. Sorry, I...got confused.”

“ _Aww!_ How endearing!” Kokichi giggled. “I guess you just added a measly syllable by mistake. I forgot that numbers must be super confusing for dolls. Don’t worry, I’ll correct you if you mess up again!” He punctuated his promise with another strike from his crop to Shuichi’s outer right thigh.

“ _Fuck!_ F-five, sir... _Thank_ _you_ sir.” With those words, Shuichi wasn’t the only one with a reaction of _fuck_. Specifically, his erection was getting more and more uncomfortably dissatisfied with the confinement of his leather pants. Kokichi ignored himself for now, knowing that he and Shuichi were both in the homestretch towards their literal climax.

The moments of the ensuing minutes bled and melded together like the pigments in a painting by an impatient watercolorist: the swish of the crop slashing through the air before inevitably connecting with enflamed skin; the rattling of chains, pained groans transforming into debauched moans of ecstasy; Shuichi’s body glistening with sweat, quivering from sensation and maintaining balance; and counted strikes, followed by sometimes irrational “corrections,” framed by a crescendoing chorus of profanities and declarations of _fuck_ _yes, please sir, thank you sir,_ ** _more sir._**

Kokichi stopped after a crop to the middle of Shuichi’s back resulted in a blissed-out moan followed by silence.

“Doll are you okay? Talk to me!” He dropped the crop and removed his gloves without hesitation, reaching out to soothe the skin directly. To be expected it was red and angry _especially_ compared to his own already pale complexion, and radiated warmth.

At the gentle touch the man suspended above him gasped and shivered, before murmuring a reply, “Mmm...sorry sir...can’t ‘member...the number...”

Kokichi quickly turned his sigh of relief into a hush of reassurance. “Shh, baby, you counted perfectly, _exactly_ how many you needed to, you did so good, let’s get you down.” He climbed back up on the bed to unhook the handcuffs, but was stopped by pitiful _whine_ coming from where Shuichi hung.

“Nnnooo please sir, d-don’t wanna stop, pl- _please_ need more--”

He chuckled warmly before shushing Shuichi again, pulling an end of his blindfold until it slipped from the knot, and let the cloth fall to the floor. “Look at me, love.”

His eyelids fluttered open, long lashes joined together with tears shed from overwhelming pain, pleasure, and passion. Kokichi could see his eyes were wet and glossy, his gaze hazy and vulnerable. With a gentle smile he cupped his face with his hands, and with his thumb he wiped away some of the moisture underneath Shuichi’s eye.

“We’re not _stopping_ , we’re just getting you down from here, yeah? Besides, you haven’t even cum yet.” Shuichi groaned needily when Kokichi grabbed his cock and began to stroke it leisurely. “I may give you blue bruises sometimes, but I’m not gonna give you blue _balls_. That’d basically be a war crime y’know.”

“Kokichi…” His moan was intermixed with a plea as he leaned forward. It was always an invigorating revelation, to Kokichi, to see his genius, thoughtful, beautiful, considerate detective condensed to an almost incoherent creature only capable of expressing simple desires and intense emotions.

Kokichi met him halfway, capturing his lips with the open-mouthed kiss he knew the other was craving. Hand moving from Shuichi’s cock to instead grip his hip, Kokichi cradled the back of his neck with his other hand. Despite sincerely wishing to continue the kiss for much longer (if he didn’t know any better he’d think he was getting a contact high from Shuichi’s subspace) Kokichi pulled back, wrapping an arm around Shuichi’s torso to stabilize him as he reached up to unhook the handcuffs from the hanging lead.

“Time to stand steady and shift to the bed, doll. I’m right here.”

“Yessir,” he mumbled, looking at his dom’s face with such adoration it made Kokichi’s heart skip a beat. Made him also wonder if, after all these years, he _still_ hadn’t graduated from being a lovesick idiot.

Or maybe his heart just momentarily went on strike from continually pumping its precious resources to his neglected cock.

 _Yeah, that’s deeeefinitely it,_ Kokichi mused as he unattached the handcuffs, helped ease Shuichi to their bed, and then promptly manhandled him in the direction of the headboard. Shuichi groaned from the suddenly rough treatment, being dragged across the bedding and arranged into a seated position, with one of his wrists uncuffed just to weave his manacles through the gaps in the headboard, but he offered no resistance. In fact, Shuichi widened the spread of his legs himself. For a moment Kokichi raked his eyes over the man in front of him like he was undressing his very soul, then he crawled over to him and finally unbuttoned his fly.

“I’m kinda at my limit here and it’s veeeery much your fault, Shuichi,” he admonished, licking his lips while he hovered over and looked down at him with his most enticing bedroom eyes. His fingers lightly roamed over Shuichi’s chest, before removing one of the clamps and rubbing his thumb against the red, abused nipple. Shuichi _keened._ “I have needs too, y’know. Do you have any idea how much your paindrunk body and screams and moans and pleas of ‘ _please sir, more sir’_ turn me the fuck on?” Leaning in to bite his ear, he continued with a hiss, “Do you realize that as you’re begging me to unravel you centimeter by centimeter you’re unraveling me with you?” Shuichi shuddered and mewled beside him. Pulling back, Kokichi chuckled when Shuichi tried follow but was held fast by the cuffs. Just out of reach and kneeling upright, Kokichi hooked his thumb around his waistband, running his other hand up and down his chest while he advertised his restrained arousal. “You understand what you’re doing? Or do you need a more **uncut** presentation?” At any other time Shuichi’s groan would’ve preceded a thrown pillow, and Kokichi would laugh while he effortlessly dodged, but in this moment his groan clearly stemmed from a more fervid longing prime for milking. Kokichi tilted his head in mock confusion. “Hmm? What’s that? Use your words, doll.”

“Please sir.”

“Please what?” Kokichi casually pulled his waistband down a little to expose a hip while he maintained his oblivious facade.

Shuichi reddened, and while he didn’t turn his face away he did momentarily close his eyes. “Please, show me what I’m...how I’m affecting you.” He bit his lip as he opened his eyes again.

Kokichi’s inquisitive mask disintegrated, leaving perverse mischief in its place. “Hmmm...if I show you, will you take responsibility?”

The two locked eyes during a moment of palpable, anticipatory silence. Like before, Kokichi was curious about Shuichi’s reflective reply. Like before, Kokichi was surprised.

“However you require, sir.”

Kokichi blanked in the aftermath of that declaration, its sheer conviction latent with a palatable blend of bold submission. Trust, faith, _everything_ laid bare before him. His face remained blank as he moved closer, but Shuichi didn’t flinch, or show any other tell of anxious trepidation. He was still flushed, eager, and open.

“ **How…** ” he started, hands trembling as he undid his zipper, only pulling the pants down far enough to expose his ass and unleash his cock, “ **are you so.** **_Fucking_** **. PERFECT?** ”

Shuichi groaned at the aggressive praise, his mouth slightly agape and his eyes hungry. Threading his fingers through the hair on the back of Shuichi’s head, Kokichi tightened his grasp as he steered his doll’s face closer to his member. With a piercing stare as he locked eyes with Shuichi, he commanded: “ _Suck._ ”

His detective didn’t need to be told twice. Immediately Kokichi felt his dick enveloped by the wet warmth of Shuchi’s lips and mouth, letting out a hiss and briefly clamping his eyes shut as Shuichi hollowed his cheeks. He had to grit his teeth to force himself to hold back, tugging Shuichi’s hair as he ground out the words “Hold on.”

Shuichi stopped, though he didn’t remove himself as he looked up at Kokichi with confused eyes.

“As much as I _love_ to take advantage of your enthusiasm doll, if you’re going to start out that vigorous I need to make sure you remember your safe signals.” Shuichi snapped his fingers twice in quick succession--a signal with dual-meaning of _yes, sir_ and _kuro._ “Since I’m fairly positive that your pretty little dollface is about to be my personal fuckhole”--he had to pause as the rumble of Shuichi’s audible groan washed over his cock--“if you need me to pull out for whatever reason, what’s your signal?”

A lone fingersnap was his answer. As he briefly cupped Shuichi’s face, he felt his smile turn predatory. Kokichi licked his lips when Shuichi shuddered and darted his gaze away. “Good! Carry on then, doll.” Shuichi snapped his fingers twice again, and Kokichi nudged the back of the man’s head to spur him on. Again he started blowing him in earnest, and Kokichi was in slight awe of the picture before him. Hands cuffed to the headboard, bent over to latch his mouth over Kokichi’s member, the tantalizing flush painting his hollowed cheeks that creeped up to the tips of his ears and down his neck, his aluminum collar glistening against his bobbing throat.

“ _Fuck_ , you’re so pretty like this,” Kokichi purred, clutching the back of Shuichi’s head with one hand and threading his fingers through his navy strands, and then placed the other on the headboard to brace himself. “ _Shit._ ” Looking down, Kokichi noted that Shuichi’s eyes were closed, probably due to a mix of concentration and feeling the weight of his dom’s staring. Each time Shuichi managed to coax a breathy moan out of his dominant, his dick twitched, mirroring the pleasure he evoked. Entwining the fingers of the hand he had been using to steady himself against the headboard with those of Shuichi’s left hand, Kokichi, for a moment, allowed himself to simply indulge in the sensations of Shuichi’s practiced lips and tongue. His grip started out tender, almost gentle, then turned brutally forceful as recentered himself in his role.

“Mmm, I have an idea, dollface.” He waited for Shuichi’s eyelids flutter open and his gaze float upward--he _definitely_ didn’t pause his statement just to appreciate the sight of Shuichi looking up at him with his lips lewdly wrapped around his cock, nope not at all. “How ‘bout if you get me off reeeeal good and swallow every last drop, I’ll give you a reward. Like...me riding your poor neglected cock until you cum?”

Shuichi _groaned_ as he performed a particularly needy, desirous _hard_ suck. Kokichi laughed to hide his own gasp.

“Nee-heehee--what was that? I’m not fluent in _Moan_ ,” he prompted with a cheeky grin, which only widened with Shuichi’s _snap, snap._ “Well then, hop to it! But _no_ cheating--this isn’t a speedrun, alright? If I’m not satisfied you’re not getting rewarded.”

After another couple snaps of acknowledgement, Shuichi continued his task, _slowly_ bobbing his head up and down while dragging his tongue along the shaft. With every wiggle of the tip of Shuichi’s tongue against his hard member, Kokichi could feel himself steadily ascending from the combination of the powertrip and pleasure. Shuichi had gotten _way_ too good at blowjobs since they had started dating. It was Kokichi’s fault, too, as he had always been the superior one at the act (only because his thirsty virgin-ass had been practicing on phallic objects), but the detective’s analytical mind was like a sponge. It didn’t take long for him to absorb the information and then learn how to copy the techniques with amazing success.

He was pulled out of his reminiscing by Shuichi giving some extra attention to his head, gasping when he dipped his tongue into the slit. The action narrowed his focus to the hot and increasingly lubricated fleshy walls engulfing him. His grip on Shuichi’s hair tightened. Each time Shuichi bobbed down, he welcomed more of Kokichi’s cock deeper into his mouth. Occasionally Shuichi raised his half-lidded gaze to his sir’s face, seeking visual proof of his pleased approval. With a moan that devolved into a purr, Kokichi shoved his fingertips against the back of Shuichi’s head as he rocked into his enticing orifice.

“Mmmm, you’re intending to deep-throat me, aren’t you, my beloved _sex_ doll?” The other groaned in response and in lieu of snapping he squeezed the hand that was still coiled in his. Kokichi pulled his hand away--causing Shuichi to whimper at the loss--and gripped the headboard again. “You want me to use you like the breathing onahole you are? Well I guess you wouldn’t be breathing, at least temporarily.” Shuichi snapped twice, looking up with glossy eyes. Kokichi smirked, and roughly massaged the back of Shuichi’s neck with his fingers. “Alright, be sure to do your _very_ best!”

After that spoken encouragement, Kokichi quickly found himself unable to string together cheeky quips. His dick was positively _drenched,_ Shuichi’s slick saliva dribbling down to its base as Shuichi’s tongue continued with its incessant, sensual strokes. Gradually he was taken deeper, Shuichi’s full, stretched lips getting ever-so closer to kissing his groin, until finally Shuichi rested his tongue against the underside of Kokichi’s member and widened his mouth, almost as if in a yawn. With that opening Kokichi _shook_ as he slid the remaining distance into his love’s tight throat, a moan snatched from the darkest crevices of his very being.

Shuichi fell into a blessed rhythm. He’d leisurely throatfuck his sir for a bit, and when he needed to take a break to properly breathe, he returned to tongue-work. At one point he even briefly yet gently dragged his teeth along his length, coercing a full-body twitch from Kokichi.

The leader could clearly perceive the silhouette of a looming, mindblowing orgasm through the haze of his euphoria. Removing his hand that clutched Shuichi’s skull, Kokichi reached for the lube bottle that was nearly falling out of his scrunched back pocket. He popped the cap open with his thumb, and when Shuichi had again switched to pleasuring him with his tongue, he squeezed a liberal amount of the silicone lubricant directly on to Shuichi’s dick. The man flinched from the sudden sensation of the cool gel and narrowly avoided teething Kokichi on accident. He dropped the bottle on the bed, and shifted his hand to fondle his doll’s arousal, thoroughly coating it as well as his fingers with the lube. While the sound of Shuichi’s muffled, yearning moans was like sweet music, Kokichi withdrew his hand as soon as the lube felt sufficiently warmed for comfort, and reached around to begin to stretch himself in preparation. The brief attention invigorated Shuichi, his pace quickening while Kokichi eased himself open, steadily increasing the number of fingers he fucked himself with and sinking them deeper.

His skin felt hot, like he was in a sauna but without the humidity inhibiting his lungs. He was close, _right there_ , and with that realization he removed his fingers and held on to Shuichi’s shoulder.

“I’m gonna cum,” Kokichi breathed, only able to keep his hips stationary long enough for Shuichi to quickly get some air before taking him deep again and stilling. After he began thrusting into his throat, Kokichi, cracking his eyes open to look down at Shuichi, locked eyes with the man he loved. Misty, amber irises, slick, tight heat, and sweet, amorous submission all converged, their collision pushing Kokichi to his release. As he shot down Shuichi’s throat, his moan increased in volume as he felt Shuichi _swallow_ , the action creating a sensation that felt like the man was pulling each spurt of cum _directly_ from its source.

Kokichi was trembling as he came down from his high, and as his fog began to clear he carefully extracted himself and, without hesitation, removed his pants, tossed them on the floor, straddled Shuichi, cradled the back of his neck, and captured his lips in an intense, open-mouthed kiss. Shuichi mewled into the wordless praise, pressing against Kokichi as much as he could while his hands hung helplessly above him.

Without breaking the kiss, Kokichi shifted the position of his hands, gripping the headboard with his clean fingers and pushing his lubed ones back into himself; ensuring he’d be ready to bestow Shuichi’s reward. As he reached behind himself, he brushed against Shuichi’s throbbing member. The brief contact made him whimper needily against Kokichi’s lips. Coaxing Shuichi’s bottom lip into his mouth, Kokichi teased, sucked, and nibbled the flesh as he finished prepping himself, then reached down to stroke and line Shuichi’s cock up with his entrance before slowly sinking down onto it.

Shuichi pulled back from their kiss with an agonizing moan, sucking in a harsh breath as he sank further. Kokichi was transfixed by the beaded sweat on Shuichi’s furrowed brow, and the way his strained, pained expression relaxed into one of pure, enthralled rapture. His delectable bliss acted as the shot of adrenaline Kokichi needed to keep his body moving post-orgasm.

“How do you feel, baby?” Kokichi murmured against the other’s lips, staring at his face as he inched himself higher before tortuously enveloping the entirety of Shuichi’s firm dick once more.

“S- _so good_ , sir--y-you’re so t- _tight_ ,” he groaned, face flush and quivering. “Can I m-move Ko-k-kichi?? P-please?”

“Nope!” Kokichi responded with an audible _pop_ , grinning devilishly at Shuichi’s distressed whine and the tears at the corners of his eyes. As he raised himself again, Kokichi leaned over to whisper in his ear: “I said I was going to ride you until you cum for your reward. So just sit back and let me do all the work, doll. Don’t cum until I say you can, _haiiro_ if you’re about to. Beg for mercy if you must. Got it?”

Kokichi plunged down abruptly, wrenching a howl out of Shuichi in the process. Panting, he barely managed to croak out an affirmation of “Yes, sir.” He stretched out his legs, bit his lower lip slightly, and clenched his eyes in concentration, determined to obey the order.

The dom continued his excruciatingly unhurried pace. _If_ Shuichi were to question his tempo (though he was very aware that the other man was in the state where Kokichi could state the moon was neon orange and he’d instantly agree), Kokichi would insist it was standard teasing and edging. Like hell he’d admit the boring truth that he had _just_ cum and he wasn’t going to risk having Shuichi’s thick cock bludgeoning his currently hypersensitive prostate, so he needed a bit of a breather. Reality was too often a complete buzz-kill, and there was no way Kokichi was going to let it rob them of their moment. An impish smirk on his face, Kokichi drank in Shuichi’s trembling before he licked his lips and threw him a wink. The handcuffs’ chains rattled, Shuichi whining in frustration at his inability to reach out and _touch_ more than permitted.

His free hand meandered over Shuichi’s chest as he laboriously rode him, unpinching the other clamp and discarding the tool beside the bed in the process. Kokichi lapped at the freed nipple, making Shuichi jolt under the attention. His caresses were calculated; gentle touches, licks, kisses to his torso paving the way to bruising squeezes, hickeys, and nips, intentionally whittling Shuichi to a singularity of _being_. All that existed, and truly mattered, was the physicality that was Shuichi--his tear-streaked face, his moaning voice, his flushed, aroused, trembling, aching, _radiant_ body--and his sadistic owner in their session of playtime.

Licking a trail from where his collar rested to behind Shuichi’s ear, Kokichi giggled as he started grinding in earnest. Shuichi’s low moaning escalated into a distressed whine escaping in spite of his grit teeth. He cracked a watery eye open, and Kokichi smiled at him as he moved.

“Ha- _haiiro_ !” Kokichi stopped. “ _Please--_ I-I can’t-- _please_ , can I cum sir? Please let me cum!” he sobbed, tears free-flowing.

“You’ve been at your tipping point for a while now, haven’t you? Good toy,” Kokichi murmured, adjusting his hand on the headboard to hold Shuichi’s and using his other to cup his beloved’s face, and resumed and hastened his bouncing. “Cum for me doll!”

An unintentional clench when Shuichi brushed his prostate was ultimately what wrung his toy to climax. Crushing Kokichi’s hand like a vise, Shuichi squealed as he found release, his tense form jerking with each spurt, his face relaxing as his voice died down. As he gently pumped Shuichi through the end of his orgasm, Kokichi mentally congratulated himself for soundproofing the room, because Shuichi being that _loud_ was hot as hell.

For a few moments, the only sound in the room was the panting of the two lovers. Kokichi gingerly removed himself from Shuichi’s softening but still tender member, laying against his chest and listening to his frantic heartbeat calm to mundane levels. He thought he was probably gross for genuinely not minding the feeling of someone else’s cooling, sticky sweat against his cheek, but Kokichi couldn’t bring himself to care to figure out whether he cared about that or not.

After enjoying the content hum reverberating through Shuichi’s chest, Kokichi murdered the present, fleeting quietude.

“Whew! _That_ was fun. Ready for round two?”

Shuichi snorted, and could barely restrain further laughter when Kokichi looked up at him with a shit-eating grin on his face. The taller man jangled his restraints, and didn’t even try to contain his cackle when Kokichi, trying to prop himself up to reach and unlock the manacles, slipped down against his slick chest. Getting embarrassed or mad was the furthest thing from Kokichi’s mind at hearing that pure, fond _joy_ bubbling out of Shuichi and directed at _him_.

He balanced himself and grabbed the tool’s key attached to his necklace chain, freeing Shuichi’s wrists and just allowing the cuffs to slip down to the floor. After first rubbing the indentations dug into the skin there, Kokichi kissed the inside of each wrist. Shuichi wrapped his arms around Kokichi and pulled him down. As Shuichi caressed his lips against his own, Kokichi found the only emotion he could pin as being behind Shuichi’s unfaltering, impassioned, sincere action was _grateful_. Shuichi ended the kiss before Kokichi could fully process it, sinking back into the pillow supporting him and closing his eyes. Kokichi plopped down beside him, brushing away the dried tears under and around his eyes. Shuichi smiled.

“Mmm, I’m still surprised you bottomed,” he mumbled. Kokichi raised an eyebrow and looked at him like he was insane.

“Uh, hello? I was topping the whole time. Kind of the whole point our scene. Did you check out after you got all sub-spacey?”

Shuichi sighed and he rolled his eyes, but the smile didn’t leave his lips. “You _know_ what I meant.”

“Nee-heehee! Well, y’know…” Kokichi blanked, fatigue making him unable to come up with some manner of bullshit while he stalled with his filler phrases. He gave up. “Eh, on top of your cropping? I didn’t want you to fall down the staircase. You’re gonna be wearing those bruises for a while.”

The other man hummed, his hand habitually covering his mouth as the gears in his head started turning again. “We should...really have Iruma install an elevator or something.”

_“What?”_

“I mean, well, just _think_ about it. What if one of us got injured, or _disabled_ , it’s not completely out of--” Kokichi tuned him out, only because he already understood where he was coming from and knew he had a point. He just stared at Shuichi’s more animated face, his long eyelashes, his cute lips, and his still somewhat flushed face. “--are you even hearing what I’m saying?”

 _That_ snapped him out of his leering. Kokichi smirked a little. “Of course! Well, my auto-translator was on, but literally everything you said after ‘elevator’ boiled down to ‘but Kokichi, I _wanted_ you to plow me into the mattress.’”

He saw Shuichi shift his eyes to stare at the wall as he _blushed_ and ground out: “Interpret it however you want.”

“Ahaha! Got it in one!” Kokichi giggled and pecked Shuichi on the cheek, nuzzling against him. The man sighed slightly, and Kokichi could feel his miniscule tension leave him with it.

“...What time is it?”

Kokichi didn’t move. “Three hairs past a freckle.”

“ _Kokichi._ ”

He laughed at that. “Probably not much later than 9:00? We got plenty of time to clean up and soak in the tub before debrief in an hour.”

“Ah, that reminds me”-- _Shit!_ He slipped and said ‘debrief’ instead of ‘tea time.’ Kokichi was seriously tempted to strangle his own brain if it weren’t for the fact that oxygen deprivation would only make it worse--”how did the rest of the meeting go?”

“Fine.” His tone was clipped as his earlier pissiness at himself returned full-force.

“Oh.” He could _feel_ Shuichi deflate and again he wanted to bang his head against the wall for _still_ being an idiot. He took a deep breath before he replied more calmly.

“I mean, it’s _actually_ fine. If you want to know the specifics of how ‘oh-my-god-it’s-fine’ it is, just wait an hour. We’ll have tea, Ace will talk about eyeballs glued to her tits, I’ll recount my best jokes at Takahashi-chan’s expense, and we’ll all discuss our game plan in helping Grape-chan get elected. We’ll have fun.”

There was silence for a few moments.

“I didn’t screw it all up?”

Kokichi pulled back to look Shuichi in the eyes. “Of course you didn’t.”

“But I stuck my thumb in your--”

“ _That_ was just hot, full stop,” he cut him off and Shuichi flushed. “I was seriously tempted to suck on it and work my way do--”

“ _But_ I thought the whole idea of the deception was to make him realize he read the relationship incorrectly? It doesn’t make any sense that a subordinate would treat his boss like that in front of a client! I--”

“ _Hey_ ,” he hushed. “What part of DICE makes any sense? Or even our relationship, to most people? You can’t easily quantify it or pin it down. If people can predict what moves you’re going to make, they’ll play you. You let them think they understand what’s going on, and then you just crush their silly preconceptions into pieces. So, to serve that purpose you were almost perfect.”

The corner of Shuichi’s mouth quirked from his mild trepidation.

“Al-almost?”

“You _should_ have been making me practically cream myself the whole time! Just the once was such a tease.”

Shuichi laughed again as Kokichi pretended to pout, and only looked more pitiful as he continued to giggle. “Okay! I get it, I get it.” He paused and smiled, cupping the back of the other’s head. “Thank you, Kokichi.”

They looked into each other’s eyes, Kokichi reaching up to put his hand over Shuichi’s. Closed his eyes and rubbed his thumb over the back of his hand, his ‘ _no,_ thank _you’_ he couldn’t get to fall from his lips. He squeezed his hand before he opened his eyes again, and inclined his head in the direction of their bathroom.

“C’mon, Mr. Second-in-Command,” Kokichi purred melodiously, “Time to clean up and suffocate my darling dollface with my affections!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my writing experience after posting Side A:  
> me: See Ouma, people wanna see you dom your boyfriend.  
> ouma: 'Kay.  
> me, writing: JESUS CHRIST OUMA GO TO CHURCH  
> ouma: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> and
> 
> me years ago, crawling through a kink community website: yeah I don't really get this living doll thing, the dehumanization of it kind of creeps me out, but hey to each their own  
> me after ouma shows me that no, the doll and toy nicknames were literal, forcing me to actually think about its appeal in depth: fuck
> 
> so that's all! *coughit'saliecough* comment if you feel moved to do so, they really make my day even if I don't respond. <3


	3. Secret Track: Aftermath

_A Few Months Later_

Shuichi groaned as he woke to the sound of his phone vigorously vibrating against the night stand. He had _wanted_ to sleep in, having been up too late with the rest of DICE celebrating the election of Takahashi Haruki to the House of Representatives, which meant they’d be wired the rest of their payment per the contract. Despite imbibing far too many flutes of champagne, he still spent most of the night babysitting his lightweight boyfriend who had a bad habit of losing articles of clothing while drunk. He could already feel a headache throbbing behind his eyes. Blindly reaching for his phone, Shuichi wondered who in the world was repeatedly calling him and getting through his Do Not Disturb setting (it certainly shouldn’t be Kokichi, as he had revoked that privilege after the imp abused it). Staring the too-bright screen Shuichi could only feel bewildered and alarmed upon seeing that he had 6 missed calls and _Iruma Miu_ was trying to _video-call_ him. He instantly answered it.

“--Fuckin’ FINALLY Shithar--holy shit what the fuck is wrong with your face?” Iruma looked pissed, nostrils flaring and teeth grit, but with her casual complaint and insult it didn’t seem like anything was on fire or there was a physical emergency in the factory up top.

Shuichi grumbled, rubbing his eyes. “You woke me up and I’m probably hung over. What can I do for you Iruma?” His flat, tired tone betrayed his attempt at politeness.

“Well, sorry to wake you sleeping beauty, but some of us have work to do and Shrimp Dick blocked my number again. Is he there? I need to scream at him.” Shuichi felt dizzy from the way the blonde kept moving her phone, so he closed his eyes and rubbed his temple.

“He’s off site, left before you got in more than likely. So, _what is it?_ ”

Iruma _cringed_ , her overly aggressive demeanor shrinking into non-existence as she let out a whine. If he were more awake he’d be mortified at being so short with her, but all he could currently think of was how his spot in the bed was cooling.

“W-what? I’m just f-frustrated okay? D-don’t snap at me if you’re not going to give it to me later!” He just blinked in the face of her perversion. “I’ve been expecting a huge shipment of parts! It’s been holding up production and I’ve been waiting for _so_ _long!_  What am I s-supposed to think when all _this_ fuckery shows up at my receiving dock?”

Iruma adjusted her phone to better show the shipment behind her. Shuichi squinted at it, unable to process it.

“What the hell is all that.” At that, Iruma’s confidence returned.

“That’s EXACTLY what I fuckin’ wanna know! This ‘special delivery’ is six fuckin’ PALLETS of shitty-ass grape Panta. Like what the actual fuck?”

Shuichi gaped. “ _What.”_

“Six pallets! You wanna know how many cans of fuckin’ soda are on _a_ pallet? I sure as hell didn’t but I Googled it anyway! Two thousand four hundred cans! What the fuck are you guys planning where you need over ten thousand cans of this shit? And where the fuck am I supposed to shove it all, _my_ shipment should be comin’ any fuckin’ minute!”

As Iruma ranted, Shuichi begrudgingly analyzed the situation through his headache. He quickly took a screenshot with his phone while the pallets were still visible.

“You said ‘special delivery’--was there a note?”

“Yeah, but it didn’t make any sense. ‘Thank you for your political support,’” Iruma deepened her voice in mockery. “From a Takahashi. Like _that_ name is helpful.”

Leaning his head back, Shuichi cursed as he banged his head against the headboard. “It’s plenty helpful, actually. I’ll contact Kokichi and sort this out.”

“ _Thank you_. Geez, I should just call _you_ whenever the little asshole is driving me up the wall.”

“ _Please_ don’t.” Shuichi sighed and stretched. “I’ll make sure this is taken care of, and make Kokichi unblock your number. I’ll touch base with you later, please don’t call again Iruma.”

She snorted. “Okay fine, I’ll piss off. Thanks again, later Saihara.”

“Later,” he echoed, finger hovering over the ‘end call’ icon.

“Hey, wait a sec.” Shuichi hesitated at her perplexed gaze. ”What are you wearing around your--”

Abruptly ending the call, Shuichi entered his messages app and composed a quick text to Kokichi:

_Are you busy?_

Burying his face in his pillow, Shuichi tried soothe his worsening headache that was no longer just from his hangover. When his phone vibrated, he peered at the screen.

 _Good mooooooorning sleepyhead! I’m never too busy for my beloved Shuichi~_ _(´ ε ` )♡_

He quickly attached the screenshot he took, and shot off his blunt demand.

_Explain. 6 pallets of panta courtesy of takahashi_

With a grumble he pulled the covers over him again as he held his phone in his hand. It didn’t take long for the next message to appear.

_it’s uh part of the second half of Takahashi’s payment_

_I couldn’t help it I swear! back then Shuichi-chan was so mean, I was going through panta withdrawal! (╥_╥) I kept begging Ace and Paws and Bones and heck even Spades to buy me a panta but no one would cuz you told them not to_

Shuichi sighed.

_they told you about that huh_

He absentmindedly fiddled with the d-ring of his collar while he waited.

_Noooo but you just did! (^_ <)~♡ _

Shuichi groaned as he typed furiously.

_it’s too early. take care of it, iruma is expecting a delivery. good night_

Before he got a chance to shove his phone back on the nightstand, another message quickly appeared. He stared at it unimpressed, head still pounding.

_It’s 11:13 am. What time wouldn’t be early? A minute past noon?_

His fingers responded mechanically.

_it’s always too early for your shit kokichi_

Depositing his phone beside the bed and pulling the comforter over his head, Shuichi promptly passed out. It wouldn’t be until hours later, when he woke up again, that he would see Kokichi's final message:

_Babe you're amazing. And that's not a lie! o(≧▽≦)o I love you soooo much!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you laughed at this silly addition. 'Cause as soon as the phrase "six pallets of grape Panta" got worked into the story, I was immediately thinking of how done Shuichi would be when they showed up, so I had to write it.
> 
> so. I've had so many ideas for stories about these two in this universe? I think this might become a series of oneshots, and not all of them will be explicit. Actually most of the ones I've thought of would be humorous in nature, with like...one or two of hurt/comfort. If that interests you lemme know? Or just be on the look out for it.
> 
> Thanks for reading all. <3


End file.
